


Metamorphosis

by SecretMaker



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 19:32:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10042673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretMaker/pseuds/SecretMaker
Summary: Kyoutani has everything she needs to take the next step in transitioning, if she can only find the courage to do so. Luckily, Akaashi is right there to support her.





	

Kyoutani was trembling. It wasn’t something Keiji was prepared for, not something he had expected in all the years they’d known each other. Fingers laced together, Kyoutani stared down at her feet with a wild flush on the back of her neck. The food court was a riot of activity and noise around them, but Keiji’s world was narrowed to the girl sitting beside him, her shaggy hair and her clenched jaw and the frustration splashed across her face. Keiji bit back a sigh and settled a hand between her shoulder blades.

 

“There is no pressure,” he said. “We don’t have to do this today. We can wait until you’re ready.”

 

“No,” she said, her voice so soft he almost didn’t hear it. “No, I want to.” She bit her lip, turning her head so that her scowl was aimed at a nearby trashcan rather than Keiji, who couldn’t help but smile.

 

“Come on,” he murmured. “What is it?” Her spine went stiff under his hand.

 

“I just-” she cut herself off with a frustrated snort, broad shoulders drooping. “Never mind. It’s stupid.” She probably thought she’d done a good job of hiding it, but Keiji caught the glance she sent the store across from them, with its display of unfairly-proportioned mannequins and dainty skirts and cheerful pastels. Understanding flooded him, inexorable and cruel.

 

“It’s okay to be scared,” he said. She glanced at him, but he was prepared, already looking away. He kept his face carefully blank, as though the pain couldn’t touch him if he didn’t show it. “When I transitioned, it was easily the most difficult thing I had ever done. It took months to gather the courage to take the first steps.”

 

“But you did them by yourself.” It was such a quiet thing, that low, gravely voice of hers, and it stabbed at the very heart of Keiji.

 

“I did,” he admitted. “And I had no idea what I was doing. I stumbled through the dark, because I was too afraid to tell anyone what I was going through. It took me nearly a year to tell Bokuto-san, because I was so afraid of losing him. You, on the other hand, were much more courageous than me.”

 

“I wasn’t-” Kyoutani started, her voice strangled. Keiji turned and smiled at her, sliding his hand up her back to stroke through the ragged ends of her hair.

 

“You were,” he murmured. “Look, the hardest part is over. You’ve admitted the truth to yourself, you’ve confided in other people, and now you are a world away from where you started. The rest is all self-exploration.

 

“That isn’t to say that it will not be difficult. This will likely be a frustrating processes.” He looked away, frowning slightly at the store across from them. “All girls struggle with this sort of thing, and it only gets worse if you aren’t born with the ‘right’ body type.” He knew he sounded bitter, but that was only because he was. He could feel her eyes on the side of his face, trying once more to puzzle him out. He offered her another smile. “If you’re up to trying today, I’ll be right here with you. And if you aren’t, then I will still be with you. This choice is yours entirely.”

 

Kyoutani didn’t answer him for a long time. He didn’t say anything else, just sat beside her and people-watched, letting the noise and the bustle wash over the two of them like waves over a rock. It was one of the few things he could do for her - be a rock, an unmovable object in the unstable force of the world.

 

She gave no warning. One minute she was sitting, hunched and uncertain, and the next she was up, shoulders thrown back and jaw clenched, striding across the walkway toward the store. Keiji laughed under his breath as he sprang forward to catch up with her.

 

“Shut up,” she grumbled as he slung an arm around her shoulders.

 

“I wasn’t going to say a word,” he laughed. It worked well enough: they walked into the store together not like they were dragging themselves to their doom, but more like they were marching into battle.

 

Kyoutani faltered just inside the door, staring around with eyes as wide as they would go. With a gentle pressure on her shoulder, Keiji guided her to one side, waving off the confused but eager looking worker with a small smile.

 

“Deep breath,” he murmured to her as they passed between the first racks. “I know it’s a lot, but remember why you’re here. Don’t worry about what anyone says, just think of the girl you want to be.” Kyoutani’s shoulders were winding tighter, but she reached out a careful hand. Trembling fingers brushed against the fabric of a blouse, and all at once the tension rushed out of Kyoutani.

 

“I can’t do this,” she whispered. Keiji pulled her into his arms, biting back a sigh.

 

“You can,” he whispered. “You can, I promise you. But it’s okay you you want to hold off for a while. We can always come back.”

 

“If I leave this store I won’t be coming back,” she breathed. Keiji didn’t bother to point out how untrue that was. He simply held her tighter.

 

“How about this,” he murmured into her hair. “You go over to the dressing rooms, and I’ll find something out here for you to try on, okay? That way there is no pressure for you to choose. Does that sound like something you can do?” There was a long pause before Kyoutani nodded, pulling away from his embrace. He gave one last squeeze to her shoulder as he let her go, watching her make her way over to the dressing rooms. His heart felt tight as she disappeared around a corner, and he sighed.

 

It had only been a year or so since he’d last done this, but it felt longer. It was a different life, a different Keiji. Part of him wasn’t sure if he could handle this. Another part thought of his girlfriend, of the way she had stared at her own shoes the day she’d come out to him, the way she was probably worrying herself to distraction in a changing booth that very moment. He shook his head and looked around, determined to find her the best damn outfit she had ever seen.

 

-

 

Kentarou could do this. She really could. It was just clothes, after all, and she was definitely stronger than piles of fabric. Besides, Akaashi had done this, and he had done it alone. If he could go through all of this with no one to help him, no one to support him, then she could definitely do it with him there. Really, she could.

 

“Kentarou?” called Akaashi from the other side of the door. She took as quiet a breath as she could, then opened it to find him smiling softly at her on the other side. “Here,” he said, pressing a small stack of clothing into her hands. “Do you want me to come in, or wait out here?”

 

Kentarou didn’t know if she could do this with him inside the changing booth with her. But if he stayed outside, then she would have to open the door if she wanted him to see, and who knows who else would be watching? And it wasn’t like he wasn’t familiar with every inch of her, after all this time. Slowly, she stepped back and to one side, holding the door for him to slip into the space with her. He closed the door and turned the lock before facing her, reaching out to draw one slender finger along her cheek.

 

“Hey,” he murmured. She leaned into the touch, closing her eyes. “You ready?” he asked.

 

“No,” she said, setting the clothes he’d brought her down on the bench. Reaching behind her head, she tugged off her shirt and tossed it aside, moving quickly before she lost her nerve. She kicked off her shoes and her jeans, whipping around to stare at the bench.

 

She was suddenly very, very aware that she was standing in a cramped changing room with her boyfriend, in nothing but a pair of briefs. Fear clawed at the edges of her mind, and she couldn’t comprehend what she was looking at, what she was supposed to be doing.

 

A hand on her arm, long and cool, jerked her out of her growing panic. Akaashi hooked his chin over her shoulder, arms going around her waist and pulling her close.

 

“Start with the yellow one,” he murmured into her ear. “I’m pretty sure that one will fit the best.” Kentarou nodded, and he let go of her, stepping back against the wall. With a deep breath to calm her trembling nerves, she reached out and picked up the yellow dress.

 

It was surprisingly heavy. The material was thick, a pale, creamy yellow, and it seemed simple enough. Kentarou pulled it over her head, wrestling a bit with the arm holes, then closed her eyes.

 

“Kentarou.” It was whispered against the skin of her neck, a light brush of Akaashi’s lips that sent shivers racing through her veins. “You’re almost there my love. Open your eyes.” Despite herself, Kentarou obeyed.

 

The figure in the mirror still looked like her. The same scowl, the same hulking shoulders, the same tense spine. Akaashi looked with her, his pale face strong and beautiful as he hummed.

 

“How do you feel?” he asked. She shook her head.

 

“Like I’m wearing a sack,” she replied, and a smile cracked across his face.

 

“Yeah, it’s not the best cut,” he said, stepping closer. He gathered the material at her sides, holding it back and tilting his head. “We’ll have to find something that accentuates your waist and hips more. And until we can find find some better underwear, we’ll have to be careful about pantie lines. But do you like it?”

 

Kentarou considered his question. She took his hands in each of hers, letting the dress fall back to its natural shape and cocking her head at her reflection. It truly was a horrible dress, and she wondered what on earth had possessed her boyfriend to say that it would fit her best. But…

 

It was a dress. The skirt fluttered to a stop just past her knees and the sleeves were delicate and floaty. There was a floral pattern embroidered in white around the collar. It had pockets.

 

She didn’t say anything, but from the way Akaashi smiled at her, he understood. She wrestled herself out of the yellow dress, handing it to him to put back on the hanger, and reached for the next one.

 

They left the mall that day with bags from three different stores. There were only a few things in each one, and most of the ones they visited they left empty-handed because nothing fit her. But the few skirts and blouses and the one dress they got were _hers_ , and that made them absolutely precious.

**Author's Note:**

> For [Kip](http://feudtrollism.tumblr.com) as part of the hq rarepair exchange.  
> [Tumblr](http://notsuchasecret.tumblr.com)


End file.
